


Don't Forget Where You Belong

by fightthegiants



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Football, M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1246012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightthegiants/pseuds/fightthegiants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is making his Rovers debut and his good luck charm is useless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Forget Where You Belong

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I knocked up after being at Louis' game last night. Full credit for this wonderful prompt goes to Lauren (@ChewwyTomlinson on twitter) who turned to me half way through the first half and said "Imagine if Harry came running on at half time and just picked Louis up and spun him round and it was all cute and stuff!?"  
> So yeah, this is all your fault Lauren!
> 
> I don't own Louis & Harry and none of this is true (unfortunately). Don't sue my ass, thanks.
> 
> Also this fic is set in some alternate dimension where Lou & Harry are out and proud.

If Louis pressed his home button to illuminate his screen one more time, it was definitely going to fall off. He huffed to himself again, still nothing. It was his big night, his debut for Donny Rovers reserves and Harry had the audacity to be on the other side of the planet AND not texting him good luck.

  
Niall had tweeted earlier in the day and text him shortly after with a more personal good luck message but as lovely as Niall was, he wasn't Louis' boyfriend.

  
Liam had left him a cheery voicemail message while Louis was getting into his training kit before they left the house earlier.

  
 _"Hey mate, it's Li! Just wanted to say good luck for tonight, you're gonna be great. Break a leg and all that...well...don't but you know what I mean! I'll text you later, love ya!"_

  
It'd made Louis smile at the time but as he listened to the saved message again, it sounded hollow because the Wolverhampton accent wasn't the one he wanted to hear.

  
Louis smoothed his over-grown fringe away from his eyes and he opened up his message feed with Harry. The last message they'd exchanged was last night before Louis went to sleep and neither of them had found the time to communicate today. Louis presumed Harry was out somewhere in LA having an absolute ball with Anne and Robin and probably (definitely) not thinking about him.

  
Louis really did pride himself on his excellent ability to sulk. If they gave out awards for it, he'd be at the front of the  line. Usually he only used sulk mode to get sympathy blowjobs from Harry but it was working quite well as a focus for all of his nervous energy right now.

  
 _Huff._

  
_How the fuck am I supposed to go out there and be a superstar footballer when you're not even acknowledging my existence, you prick. xxx_

  
Louis shoots off a just-this-side of cute sulky text to Harry, Christ knows what time it was over there but to be quite honest, Louis did not give a single fuck right now. Thankfully, he was alone in the team changing room as the other lads were already in the tunnel waiting to hit the pitch for warm-up. They weren't going to wait for him much longer and he was running dangerously close to diva territory  with how far behind he was lagging.

  
With one more huff for luck, he dropped his phone into the pocket of his coat and jogged out into the concrete tunnel to join his team mates. As he rolled his shoulders and did a few little jumps to shake the cold from his muscles, he could hear the thrum of activity in the stadium. The din was discerningly female, a rare occurrence at any football match, let alone Donny Rovers on a cold Wednesday night in February. There was no doubt he was the main attraction tonight and that piled the pressure on Louis. Where he would usually have four other pairs of shoulders to share the burden with, he was flying solo tonight. The more he thought about it, the more his stomach turned. Louis swallowed hard and cursed Harry internally.

  
He'd already been briefed on how he'd sit out the first half and be subbed on in the second. They had to make 'damage limitations', lessen the window for injury. He had a world tour coming up, don't you know? He would be expected to keep his muscles warm and himself ready for action which would involve toeing it up and down the touch line right next to the stands to keep the fans happy.

  
Louis had been so excited for today but since his all-out snub from Harry, his heart really wasn't in it. One of his team mates (Rob? Was that his name?) clapped a hand to his shoulder and squeezed.

  
"How you doing mate?"  
The guy's smile was easy and open. Louis couldn't help but return it.

  
"Yeah, I'm good, yeah. Just nervous you know, you guys do this all the time. Now you're letting an amateur like me loose." Louis managed to chuckle in spite of himself. Rob laughed back and squeezed his shoulder again.

  
"You'll be great, the girls out there'll love it. Don't think we've ever 'ad such a turn out so we can at least thank you for that even if you do play shit."

  
Louis had to laugh at that. The rate he was going, his game was going to be shit. Apparently, his good luck charm couldn't be bothered to grace him with any of said luck. Before he had time to dwell on the thought any longer, the manager was rounding them up as the players were being announced on the field. The players ahead of him jogged out to a wall of noise and applause as they were called out. The swell of noise grew as Louis edged up to the entrance of the tunnel but all he could hear were muffled sounds, like he was under water. His mind was elsewhere... in LA.

  
"And substitute number four, LOUIS TOMLINSON."

  
The noise in the stadium reached an ear splitting level as Louis jogged out, his breath fogging up the air in front of him. He lifted one delicate hand to give a curt nod to the fans before joining the other substitutes for a warm up. He kicked the ball when he should and ran when he was told to but the excitement he should be feeling never quite made it to his stomach. It was a dull fizzle in the base of his spine, dampened by the resolute lack of Harry.

  
He took his place on the bench ready for kick off and watched, focusing all his thoughts and attention on the game. Louis found it was quite easy to lose yourself and time when you were watching your team command the pitch and make some quite brave tackles. The first half was almost over as he returned to the dug out from a jog down the sidelines. The fans really were out in force and as much as Louis was sulking, it did warm that chasm in his chest to see their smiling faces, supporting him loyally even though this wasn't the music.

  
The crowd began to applaud and it dragged Louis out of his mind to see all the players leaving the pitch and heading for the changing room. He joined them and filed his way back in with the rest of his team. He practically ran to where his coat was hung up on a peg in the corner to grab his phone. Several texts... none from Harry. Louis actually scowled down at his phone. He tapped open the messages he did have, one from his mum who was up in the terraces saying she was so proud and that she couldn't wait to see him play in the next half. The next was from Niall wanting an update on the score. The third was from Zayn, a simple **Good luck for tonite man :) x** and the last was from Cordo telling him to 'break a leg pretty boy'. None of his messages could dissolve his scowl though. He plonked himself down on the bench to listen to his manager giving the team a pep talk in preparation for the second half. The second half which he now had to go and play in. He had just enough time to text Harry again.

  
 _My games going great babe thanks for asking >:I_

  
Louis really was going to make him pay for this when he got home.

  
After several bottles of energy drink, a quick wipe down with a towel and some fighting talk from the manager, the team were on their way back to the field. Louis joined the other subs for a little kick around at the side of the field and tapped a football towards Luke, who tapped it to Josh who then tapped it back to him. Louis was aware they were both looking at him, wondering why he was so quiet. He kept his head down and pretended not to see. He was vaguely aware that they were drawing the winning raffle numbers and a girl in a seat near where they were playing squealed as her number was called out. He looked over and gave her a congratulatory smile.

  
As Louis stopped the ball with his foot and kicked it up to his knee, then his chest and back down again, he became vaguely aware that the noise level had pretty much died, in fact, the stadium around him was deathly silent. He looked up with a frown to see his two team mates looking through him and towards a spot over his shoulder.

  
"Guys? What-?"

  
"Shut up Louis." Josh barked.

  
"Josh, what the fuck man?" Louis bit back, even more annoyed now. This was not his fucking day. If he could get away with running off the field, getting into his car and driving all the way back to his and Harry's flat in London, he would've done it. Right here, right now.

  
"Louis, just- be quiet." Luke said, his eyes still averted over his shoulder.

  
"Oh for- this is utter bullshit." Louis spat as he bent down to pick up the football.  
  
 ** _"You always said there were good views in Doncaster."_**

  
The deep, gravelly sound came from behind him and the instant it registered in Louis' ears, his heart shot up into his mouth. Louis' eyes were wide and his dry tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Josh and Luke were grinning like a couple of idiots and Louis slowly began to turn. He was afraid his sulked-out brain was now creating Harry mirages for him but as Louis' eyes fell on him, he knew this Harry was definitely real.

  
His gorgeous skin had a slight golden tinge from a few days in the LA sun, his unruly hair was swept back under a bright blue scarf, he was wearing a white tshirt that cut just below his collar bones that had holes near the bottom, those bloody black skinny jeans were painted to his legs as usual and he was real and he was here and Louis could see the goose bumps on his arms and his nipples through his unbelievably thin tshirt.

  
"Why aren't you wearing a jacket, you cock?" was all that tumbled out of Louis' mouth before he launched himself into Harry's arms and wrapped his legs around his waist. Harry's smile went supernova as he buried his nose into Louis' neck and took in that old, familiar smell of his lover's skin.

  
The pair were distantly aware that the whole stadium had erupted into horror-movie-style screams as they stood, pitch-side, holding each other as if their lives depended upon it.

  
Harry gently let Louis back to the ground and bent to peck the smaller boy on the lips.

  
"What the actual fuck are you doing here, you twat?" Louis laughed, his smile making his eyes going thin and crinkled at the corners.

  
"Nice to see you too, love." Harry huffed, leading Louis back to the centre of the field with a big hand to the small of his back.

  
"We're talking about this later." Louis said, trying to sound authoritative and failing spectacularly.

  
They joined the compere in the centre circle, their arms entwined around one another.

  
"Ladies and gents, it appears we have a special, half time guest... Harry Styles!" He boomed into his microphone.

The crowd were screaming themselves silly again as Harry waved at them all, smiling his best dimpled smile. Louis looked up at him in wonderment. Louis never failed to be rendered breathless by the lanky, curly idiot by his side.

  
"So, you were supposed to be in LA?" The announcer said, pushing the mic in Harry's direction.

  
"Well I heard there was a decent game of football going on today so I thought I'd hop back." Harry said, smiling down at Louis and bopping him on the nose with the tip of his index finger. Louis' nose wrinkled under Harry's touch and he elbowed Harry in the side.

  
"I think you arrived at the right time, I hear there's a possibility a celebrity might play in the second half." The announcer joked.

  
"Is that right? I hope it's that Louis Tomlinson dude, heard he's quite good." Harry laughed, winking at Louis.

  
 _God, Harold, could be any more fucking douchey? iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou._

  
Louis' thoughts were racing at a million miles a second and now he was expected to play forty five minutes of football? The world could be a cruel place, Louis decided.

  
"Thanks for joining us Harry, enjoy the game! Harry Styles, everyone!"

  
And with that, Louis and Harry were ushered towards the dugout so the second half could commence.

  
"You never answered my question, where is your coat?" Louis flustered as he removed his training kit to reveal his Rovers strip underneath. Harry was momentarily distracted by the brief glimpse of Louis' stomach as he pulled off his jumper.

  
"Oh I think it's in the car, I literally landed about an hour and a half ago. I toed it all the way here from Manchester airport." He replied nonchalantly.

  
"Here, wear this." Louis said, throwing his red Rovers training sweater at Harry. He pulled it carefully over his curls and pushed his arms into it, pulling it down over his torso. The sleeves hit at Harry's mid forearm and the hem barely reached his hipbones but it was the perfect fit. It smelled like Louis and it still retained his body heat. Harry conceded that Louis was definitely not getting this back.

  
"Right, I'm up. See you in a bit." Louis smiled down at Harry where he was sat on the bench.

  
"Knock 'em dead baby." Harry winked, leaning up for a quick peck from Louis. Louis smiled into the kiss before turning and jogging out onto the field to a whole new wave of appreciation.

  
His game was on top form, he made a few brave tackles and ended up on his arse twice but he wasn't stopping for anyone. His lungs were on fire, his calves and thighs stung and he was sure that Rotherham player had ripped his shirt in that tackle but Harry's shouts of encouragement were bleeding through the din of the crowd and Louis was playing for him.

  
As the whistle sounded for full time, every person in the stadium was on their feet. Despite the game passing without a single goal, Doncaster had played with gusto. They'd been on the attack for the entire game and it was only Rotherham's lucky defending that had meant they couldn't get one past their keeper. Louis' face was hurting from smiling as he waved to the fans and dotted around the field shaking hands with the Rotherham players. As he turned to make his way to the tunnel, he was hit with the full force of Harry. Harry scooped Louis up into his arms and twirled him around. It was probably the most Disney princess thing that had ever happened to Louis and if he enjoyed it a bit too much, well, who was he deny it?

  
Louis giggled into Harry's mouth as he pressed their lipss together in a victory kiss. His feet met the grass and Harry was everywhere, his arms engulfing Louis and pulling him into his side as Louis allowed himself to be led off the pitch. Harry high fived a few fans who were hanging over the tunnel wall as they made their way to the dressing room. As Harry kicked the door open with his foot, Louis' team mates gave a manly cheer. Louis ducked his head, a flush high on his pronounced cheekbones.

  
"Nice of you to join us." Louis' team manager laughed, shaking Harry's hand.

  
"There were actually a few moments back there where I didn't actually think I'd make it."

  
"You're telling me, you should've seen how panicky your texts were!" The manager chuckled.

  
"Hold on, back the fuck up here, you mean... all you bastards knew he was coming?" Louis squeaked, pointing a slender finger accusingly at his team mates.

  
"We may have had an inkling..." Josh piped up from the back of the crowd of players.

  
"When he says inkling, he means Harry called me the day he left for LA and told me he'd be surprising you at half time today." Louis' manager smiled, trying his best not to look sheepish.

  
"You bunch of fuckers!" Louis chimed, failing to sound annoyed.

  
"Look, we don't expect to see you in the players lounge after, we'll make your excuses... get out of here. John's got Harry's car waiting at the groundsmen's entrance." The manager smiled, handing Louis his kit bag and jacket. Louis turned to see John, the head coach, holding the door open for them.

  
"I owe you one Dave." Louis grinned, taking hold of Harry's hand.

  
"You owe us all one!" came a voice from somewhere in the room. Louis huffed out a laugh.

  
"You cheeky shits, see you soon, good game lads!"

  
He pulled Harry out of the sticky air of the changing room as the lads cheered behind them. The cool of the tunnel brushed at their noses as John lead them through a maze of corridors towards their waiting car.

  
"Here you go lads, great game Louis, see you soon mate." John said, stretching out a hand to shake Louis' and then Harry's.

  
"Thanks John, you're a legend. I'll phone you tomorrow to sort out that stuff for the website." Louis smiled as he hopped up into the passenger side of the Range Rover.

  
"Thanks fella, cheerio." John called, waving a hand over his shoulder.

  
As Louis slammed the door closed, Harry was watching him. Louis closed his eyes and laid his head back against the seat, a grin still plastered across his face.

  
"You're a little shit, Harold."

  
"Admit it, it was a pretty romantic thing to do."

  
Louis could hear the smirk riding high in Harry's voice even with his eyes closed.

  
"It was the best thing anyone's ever done for me and honestly, I wouldn't have expected anything less of you."

  
Louis opened his eyes and turned his head towards Harry.

  
"I do love you, you know, Louis."

  
The sincerity behind Harry's eyes made Louis' breath catch in his chest. Louis tentatively reached a hand across to hold Harry's jaw, his thumb stoking over Harry's ear.

  
"I know babe... and for what it's worth, me too."

  
Without another word, Harry started the engine and eased the car towards the main road.

  
The motorway back to London was dark and quiet and they travelled in comfortable silence, Louis' hand on Harry's thigh as he drifted in and out of sleep.

  
As the orange glow of London began to ghost over the Range Rover's bonnet, Harry reached one hand over from the steering wheel to rub the back of Louis' neck, tangling his fingers in the long hair at his nape.

  
"Nearly home, Goldenballs." he whispered to a sleepy Louis.

  
Louis stretched languidly in the passenger seat, a satisfied groan escaping his lips. Harry smiled fondly at the expanse of Louis covering the cream leather of the cars interior. Louis squinted out of the window, seeing they were turning into their gated driveway. Harry turned off the engine and began to rub sleepily at his face, jet lag starting to take a hold of his brain.

  
Louis yawned at his side.

  
"C'mon cheerleader, it's bedtime."


End file.
